Chapter Ten - Lena.

"Stop!" Tears are running down Kate's face, and her hair is a wild mess. Her cheeks are damp and shining, and there are holes in her dress. She's bleeding quite a bit.
"Please," another voice chimes in, this one thick with accent. It's Sisa, the Gypsy girl, her normally perfect hair askew as she begs someone to stop hurting her. There is a dark violet bruise forming on her cheek.
"Make it go away!" This voice belongs to Saoirse, who is hunched in a ball, shaking. Her dress is in tatters, and there's a thin red line around her neck, as if someone has tried to choke her. 
"I'm sorry." A last voice rings out, small and clear, and I turn to see Peggy, who is sobbing as blood pours from a cut on her forehead. "Stop it, Lena."

She can't be talking to me. But even as I stand there, all of the girls are wrapped in dark green light, and the sound of their screams fills me up inside.
See, this is what happens when people get close to you. You snap, and everyone gets hurt. Even you can't escape your own madness. A snide little voice speaks from the corner of my mind, and I flinch. Look at yourself. Look at what you're doing.
I feel a wand in my hand, and I look down to see that it is my wand emitting this spell, my wand causing the pain. I try to break off the spell, but nothing works. Peggy screams one final time, and then everything is dreadfully, horridly quiet.

I wake up in a cold sweat, sobbing. This isn't the first time I've had this dream before, but it's frightening every time. After the unfortunate events of last year, I was cursed with these recurring terrors. I suppose it could have been worse. I could've been expelled- or ended up in Azkaban. 
Shaking, I climb out of bed and wipe my face with a cloth, but I can still hear the screams in my head. This time, though, some of the screams are mine.

A delicate-looking girl with ash-blonde hair and a taller, more solid girl with dark tresses walk down a corridor. They are talking, and though they smile, these smiles do not reach their eyes. The girls are scared of something.
"Hello, freaks." Four boys step out of the shadows of the hall, blocking their path. The blonde girl seems to automatically curl in on herself, but the older girl stands still.
"Good day, buzzkill," the girl retorts, a hint of a smirk flashing across her lips. "Fancy meeting you here."
"Not unusual. Creatures like you always skulk around in the shadows," one of the boys spits, glaring pointedly at the older girl. 
The smaller girl bites her lip, nervous. "Come on, Kate, let's go to class."

"'Come on, Kate,'" the boy with longer hair mocks, his voice creeping up to falsetto. "Come on, don't be such a weakling. What are you afraid of?"It's a blur, I can't remember everything, but one thing pierces through my hazy memory- Kate's screams. They're crystal clear and terribly loud, loud enough to shatter glass. They're full of terror, and I can hear a thick sob pervading the remembered sound. She's scared, and I know that the Kate of last year, my best friend, is scared of me. I am so out of control, so unlike myself, that I have frightened the previously unshakeable Kate.

As I dress, the screams fade to a hum that occupies the back of my head. I slide into a pair of black pants, a blue silk blouse, and a grey waistcoat I picked up from a charity shop. I run a hand through my hair, a last-ditch attempt to control it, and walk down the stairs towards the Great Hall, the wail building in my mind.
Alex starts to say hello to me, but the noise reaches a crescendo and seems to split me in half. I collapse, dark spots flashing before my eyes. 

*    *    *    *

"Wake up, Eel, you're going to be okay."

It's Kate's voice, not screaming in terror, just warm and reassuring. My eyelids flutter, and through the blurry haze of medication, I see her cranberry-clothed figure perched on the edge of my bed. Her hair is in a dark braid, and there's a small smile playing across her lips. 

"Elena, come along, now. Just open your eyes."
This belongs to Saoirse, who is perched on a stool, her blue skirts with their Celtic-knotted pattern spread wide about her legs. Her dark red locks are in ringlets today, with a thin braid at the top, and she looks beautiful. She's fiddling with her hem of her skirt, however, as if she can't bear to be here.

"Lena, please. Sit up and drink some water." 
Surprisingly, this practical advice comes not from Alex, and not even from Claire. This is spoken by a small, soft voice with an undertone that hints at normal happiness. I sit up and see Peggy, hair scraped back in a bun. She's wearing a yellow dress in muted shades of mustard and gold, and she's standing, as if she isn't sure that she belongs here. In her arms are countless white daisies with silken petals and buttery pollen centers. The stems are all different lengths. She must have picked them herself.

"'Lo, O.H.A," Kate says cheerily.
"I am so, so, so sorry," Peggy begins, her cheeks flushed. "Kate, I want to apologize to you for just everything, really. Forgive me?"
"Never was mad at you to begin with," Kate replies, grinning and fishing something out of her pocket. "Gingerbread biscuit?"

Peggy turns to me. "Lena, I'm really sorry for not listening to you when you tried to warn me about Sirius. I'm dating him, and I'm happy with him, but I'm sorry for being so rude and for disregarding you entirely. You must have had good reason."
"I dated him for a week in fourth year," I confess, shrugging a little. "We broke up when I saw him kissing someone else. I was in a lot of emotional pain, and I didn't want you going through that."
We hug tightly, and I think it must be the medication, because my eyes fill with tears and I sniffle.

"And Saoirse, I'm sorry I said all of those nasty things about you, both last week and in that letter. You're an excellent friend, and I'm glad to have you. I hope that I can make it up to you. Will you please forgive me?"
The Irish girl snorts. "I'm not an eejit. Margaret-" I see Peggy flinch at the formal, cold usage of her first name- "you clearly have some sort of ulterior motive here, and I don't trust you."
Peggy's eyes brim over, and she places her hands on her hips. "I just wanted to make things right and get my friends back, but apparently that's too much to ask. I was right before, you know. You're narcissistic and immature and rude and you can't handle it when you don't get your way. You're spoiled!" Her voice shakes with anger and sadness as she finishes her statement.

Without warning, there's a snapping noise, the contact of flesh on thinly disguised bone, as Saoirse launches herself at Peggy and drives her fist into the smaller girl's nose. Peggy screams as blood begins to pour down her face, and flails her arms, sending her daisies scattering. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Kate bending to gather them.
"I hate you!" Peggy's voice is a little choked, as the Irishwoman has both hands tight around her throat. "You're a sniveling little brat who can't take being wrong. I can't believe I ever was friends with someone like you."

Kate places the flowers delicately in my arms and then breaks up the two sparring girls.
"Get out of here," she says calmly, even as both Peggy and Saoirse are both red-faced and spattered with blood. "You're going to stress Eel out. Clean yourselves off and come back when you can be civilized." 
The girls both leave, Saoirse muttering curses and threats under her breath, Peggy sniffling and cleaning her face with the hem of her gown. 

Kate turns to me and tucks the covers up to my chin. 
"Go to sleep, little Eel," she says, and then she begins to sing Blackbird, by the Beatles. Her voice is low and melodic, with a rich and haunting quality. It's a little husky for the song, but to me it sounds perfect, and I drift off as she sings beside me.